


Double Trouble

by SweetestHoney



Series: Oneshots - Spider-Man [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, I swear I was gonna write more of OSFTSB, M/M, Oops, Porn With Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, and this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetestHoney/pseuds/SweetestHoney
Summary: Peter Parker is your average Superhero - saving the city from the baddie of the week, helping old ladies cross the street, saving cats from trees, sleeping with one of his arch-nemeses on the down-low.When Quentin Beck accidentally gets split in two because of some alien technology he messed with, Peter has to deal with the situation. The situation ends up dealing with him.(Takes place in a one-off universe where Peter Parker never fought Mysterio in London, and instead of being a mega-asshole like in the movie, he's a generic run of the mill baddie that Spider-Man fights every week. And then started sleeping with.)





	Double Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Soooooo I was doing other things but I saw this prompt and reallllllyyyy had to do it, and well. Yeah. There will likely be more oneshots set in the same universe, since I like how easy it is to play with (much like Peter Parker).

It was supposed to be just another mission, just another bad guy. Peter knew what he’d gotten into when he started sleeping with Quentin Beck, all around bad guy and mild pain in Peter’s ass, but he figured it was (mostly) fun and games, and if Beck was having sex he had less time to do evil. Or so Peter thought.

Cut to the situation Peter found himself in now.

When Fury said Beck had two hundred people hostage in Central Park, at first Peter wanted to argue. He knew the man, and while Beck was absolutely good for robberies, misdirection, and general wasting of taxpayer money, he wasn’t a terrorist or a murderer, not really. Not when it counted. _Maybe that’s what you want to think._

Voicing his opinion led to Fury giving him an unimpressed stare and turning the monitor so Peter could see the news footage. It was Beck, alright, even if he wasn’t there in person only he had the hologram technology to pull something like that off.

“Shit.” Peter’s voice carried in the silence of the room - everyone stopped what they were doing to pay attention to the briefing, and they all stared at him now. Joy and rapture. “I can - I’ll go get him, web him up. He can’t threaten to bomb half a city block.” Before Fury could stop him, Peter was out the door, tugging on his mask.

As he ran, Peter contemplated Beck’s situation. He knew the man was strapped for cash, but Peter didn’t think he’d resort to something like this. Peter would stop him if he really threatened anyone, didn’t Beck know that? _Idiot, thinking he would really change. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy._ Peter hadn’t expected much from the relationship to be honest, he only kissed Beck to shut him up one day, and it snowballed from there.

And it was, well, it was good. Surprisingly so. Peter foiled Beck’s plans, Beck cursed his name, and after every single plot they met up after and fucked like bunnies. Horny, angry bunnies. So sue Peter for getting a little too comfortable with the situation - he knew something would give before long, but he didn’t anticipate _this_. If anyone was in any real danger, he’d have put his foot down years ago.

When he slipped out one of the secret entrances to SHIELD, Peter slung a web at a (strategically placed) nearby ledge and was off. SHIELD was ten minutes from Central Park by web, and he made good time. Peter arrived at the park to see a familiar sight of police lines, cops herding rubberneckers back for their own safety, and general mayhem.

“Glad to get back to the office, I missed my desk!” Peter did a flip onto the nearest cop car and received a smattering of applause from the assembled crowd before the police kept pushing them back, getting people to safety. Peter straightened and addressed the scared and nosy people surrounding the car. “Seriously folks, please listen to the police officers, they’re here for your safety. Generally, when I have to get involved, it’s because there’s some bad shi-” he cut off quickly as he noticed kids in the crowds, “things. Bad things going down. So listen to the cops, and get somewhere safe.”

The police officer nearest him roller her eyes but gave him a noD and a smile too, so he hoped his appearance evened itself out. She motioned with her head towards the area in the center of the part with the most foot traffic, clearly the center of attention. Peter shot her a thankful wave and salute, and vaulted the barricades before heading off on foot. Web slinging only got him so far, and it didn’t work as well with trees instead of glass and concrete - bark was looser than most people realized.

When he got to the center of the park, two detectives greeted him, not looking surprised to see him there. Peter would be offended, but he knew Beck was his villain, like it or not. He always got the weird ones.

“Spider-Man, thanks for getting here so quickly.” He nodded. “I’m not sure how much you know about the situation, but it’s Mysterio and he’s claiming to have a bomb that could take out half of Manhattan.” Peter was glad the mask hid his face, he was sheet white under it and couldn’t bluff his way out of the fear coursing through his veins.

_He’s not stupid enough to think that would work. He’s gonna go to jail for this, _real_ jail._ Peter was really worried about the man. Not about the damage he could do, but about _Quentin Beck_, asshole villain. If he went to jail, Peter lost him. Shit.

Peter pushed his way through the crowd of cops, arriving at the edge of a rough circle made where the crush of bodies abruptly ceased. It looked like a forcefield or something kept the police away from the center of the circle, but Peter couldn’t see anything capable of generating something like that. Although if Beck had a bomb like he claimed, that technology was far outside his abilities too.

Peter looked at one of the officers standing next to him, and the man looked back, nonplussed.

“What’s up? Why aren’t you storming the castle?” Peter saw a person he assumed was Beck, a few hundred feet out, and then the edge of the circle on the far side, where more red and blue lights twinkled. Beck was alone, and Peter didn’t understand why the snipers the police no doubt had in the wings hadn’t shot him already. It’s not like he was inside a building or anything.

The officer next to Peter shrugged and gestured to the open area. “It’s some kind of tech, he keeps all physical projectiles out, same with people. I guess he got his hands on some of that alien tech, made better weapons.” Peter didn’t like the sound of that _at all_ and reached a hand out, where the officer indicated the barrier was. His hand went forward like nothing was there.

The officer made an incredulous face, and reached a hand out right next to Peter’s. Before he got halfway, however, he retracted his hand and let out a hiss. “Ow, shit, that hurt. Yeah, it’s still there, guess you can go through.” He side-eyed Peter, and Peter took one step and then another into the empty area. A few more officers noticed him walking and tried to stop him but it was too late - he was fully inside the impenetrable zone, and walking towards Beck. The officers hit the same barrier, and all retracted their limbs quickly enough.

Beck saw him, but Peter kept walking towards the center of the circle. Awareness of his movement spread like ripples across a pond through the assembled crowds, and everyone quieted to watch him confront Mysterio. Peter wanted to talk to the man privately, but he’d take what he could get. The relative isolation from the crowds was at least something.

When he got twenty feet away from Beck, he stopped. Beck faced him, holding some kind of - laser gun? It was weird, anyway, and Peter didn’t like the look of it one bit. Beck waved the gun at him, and Peter held up his hands, placating.

“Mysterio, come on, what are you doing?” Beck snarled, and Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on, man, just let me talk to you. Put down the gun.” Peter nodded at the gun, hands still raised, and Beck lowered the weapon an inch. _Not enough._

“Get back, Spider-Man! Go away, let the big boys do the talking, and I’ll deal with you when I’m done.” Peter frowned. Beck was an asshole, but he didn’t throw around information like Peter’s age, even vaguely, when other people could overhear - he was too smart. Beck knew if he outed Peter, he’d stare at the inside of four cinder block walls for a long, long time.

A shout from behind Beck made the man whip his head around, and Peter took the opportunity presented. As fast as he could, he shot webs towards Beck, angling to pull the laser gun out of his hands. Beck turned back around quickly, however, and the gun moved in his hands as he did so. Peter’s webs ended up catching Beck’s sleeve, and the jerk made him drop the weapon.

Peter watched in slow motion as the gun toppled from Beck’s hands towards the ground. With a sickening crack, the gun impacted and there was a flash of light that made Peter look away. Gun parts exploded in every direction and Beck jumped back, narrowly missing being hit with shrapnel. With the weapon (not-so) safely dismantled, Peter felt confident enough to web Beck up, and he did so, shooting enough sticky webbing at the man to keep a small elephant down. Once Peter secured the man, he noticed a couple of the braver police officers making their way towards him and Beck.

Clearly, the gun caused the forcefield, and when it broke the field stopped. Peter wondered if someone stood there poking the forcefield and letting them know it still hurt, or if they took turns. When they reached him, the officers stopped a good few feet away from the pair, looking at Peter with amazement and at Beck with horror.

“Spider-Man! What - how did you do it?” Peter shrugged.

“I told him the gun clashed with his outfit, he dropped it, end of story.” He saw SHIELD officers taking over the scene with relief, knowing they’d secure the gun pieces and find out what it did. He believed it was dangerous based on what he saw already, and he didn’t want any more alien technology running around in his city.

When Fury himself strode up, Peter finally gave Beck a little shove, depositing him in the arms of a waiting SHIELD agent. Fury, for all his faults, made sure his people were good. After the whole Hydra thing, Peter only trusted the man himself and his handpicked goons. Peter talked with Fury while keeping one eye on the goon leading Beck away, making sure he got into one of the real SHIELD vans waiting.

“Spider-Man. This is a mess.” Peter threw his hands up at the tone of Fury’s voice.

“What? I saved the day, I stopped Mysterio, and nobody was really hurt, right?” Fury gave a slow nod. “So what’s the issue? Is it too clean?” Fury shook his head and pulled out something phone-sized that looked like a screen of some kind.

“The opposite, actually. Too messy. Look at this.” He fiddled with the controls and an image popped up on the screen. Peter took the device when it was offered and looked down at the image on it. It showed Quentin Beck smiling and laughing as he played with a puppy. He looked, well, he looked really happy, and Peter found a little piece of his heart melting at the sight. He handed the device back to Fury.

“What? So he’s a bad guy, _and_ he likes puppies? What’s the harm in that?” Fury rolled his one good eye and glared at Peter like he was purposefully giving the man a migraine.

“No. The problem is that’s a _live feed_.” Peter blinked. Oh.

“Oh. So wait, the guy-” Fury broke in without letting him finish.

“The guy you just handed over to us is Mysterio. That feed, with the dog, is also Mysterio. Somehow, he cloned himself.” Peter shook his head, already thinking about the possibilities.

“He- he can’t have cloned himself, the technology to do that is one thing, but giving him all the memories? No way, that one-” He gestured at Fury’s pocket. “That one is a hologram, he has to be. He set it up so he can say he was somewhere else while this happened, giving himself an alibi. Come on Fury, he’s a bad guy, he uses holograms, that’s what he _does.”_ Fury grimaced at him.

“The dog and that Beck were both in SHIELD. He’s in our custody, we picked him up just before all of this started. Once we heard he was somehow involved in a terrorist plot, we tested him every way we could think of. He is Mysterio, and the person you just arrested is too.” Peter’s jaw would have gone slack if not for the spandex holding it up.

His mind, being that of a healthy 20-year-old boy, immediately went places he knew he’d never come back from. Peter closed his eyes and took a breath, clearing out those thoughts before he embarrassed himself in the suit.

“I want to talk to him.” He surprised himself by speaking but thinking it over he realized he did want to talk to Beck. Both of him. Likely, the man knew the answers to their questions, and Peter could get them out of him, one way or another. “I can make him talk.”

Fury turned and walked away. He waved a hand over his shoulder. “I figured you would, so he’s waiting at SHIELD for you. We’re ready when you are.” Peter wasn’t sure he _was_ ready, but followed obediently.

——————

Beck paced in his cell, furious at the rough treatment and sub par housing. “This is cruelty, abuse of prisoners! Let me out of here!” He banged his hands against the bars, but got no answer, much like the last six times he tried it.

The doors at the end of the hallway slid open, and Fury walked into the area. He was flanked by two armed guards, and trailed by Spider-Man. Beck’s temper was still sky-high, but he looked forward to the chance to spar verbally with Fury, and needle Spider-Man. He loved getting under the boy’s skin, figuratively and literally.

“Quentin Beck. Good of you to join us. You’ll come with us, please.” Beck nodded and stood, letting the guards snap a pair of handcuffs on his wrists before turning so they could let him out of the cell. He growled low in his throat, and caught an enjoyable squeak from Spider-Man before he could clamp his mouth shut. Beck shot him a knowing grin, and got a glare in response. How the boy could make the mask glare was beyond him, but he did wear the suit well.

Beck fell into step behind Peter, and his thoughts strayed. _He does wear it well indeed._ His eyes fixated on the spandex-clad view in front of him.

Before long, however, they were in another cell block, this one also empty except for one prisoner. Beck glanced idly at whoever it was, before doing a double take. It was - it was him, down to the outfit he wore before leaving for Central Park. The man seemed equally as shocked to see him, although he gave them all a smile before raising one hand in greeting.

“Uh, hi? I’m not sure what I’m doing here, I’ve been keeping on the straight and narrow. If you’re going to ask if I cloned myself, no way.” He looked Beck up and down, taking him in. Beck felt the need to point out the logic that was clearly wrong there.

“He’s not me, hello? I’m the real me, and clearly this moron got plastic surgery or something to look like me. I am handsome, if I do say so myself, although this is taking it a step too far.” He sniffed, and it would have intimidated properly if it weren’t for Spider-Man cracking up, his hand over his mouth as he tried to stop.

“T-They - they don’t like each other!” He finally got his sentence out after nearly thirty seconds of laughing, and collapsed back onto a chair, still giggling madly. Beck refused to be the butt of the joke, and raised his nose, ignoring everyone there.

The man in the cell seemed equally confused, but was docile when the guards indicated for him to handcuff himself and step back for them to open the door. Beck watched as they led the man out, and then followed, prodded by the elbow of the guard hovering behind him.

Fury led the odd precession to one of the interrogation rooms, and Spider-Man followed eventually having laughed himself out. Once Beck sat next to the imposter, he saw minute similarities nobody should have been able to achieve, like the exact scar on his hand where he burned himself wiring a few years back.

With everyone seated, Fury turned to Spider-Man. “You know him best of anyone here, do you know what the hell is going on?” Spider-Man shook his head.

“Wait, why do you think I know him best? You guys arrest him loads of times.” Fury frowned at him.

“He doesn’t talk to us. You fight and banter with him, we do the paperwork and clean up. You know more about his personality.” Beck would swear Peter blushed under the mask.

“Right, banter. Yeah, I’ve got no clue, they look alike, they sound alike. I think someone may have cloned him against his will or something.” He shrugged. Beck sat forward, face curled in anger.

“Nobody cloned me, you morons. I’m the real me, and he’s clearly some crazy person.” The other man sitting next to him leaned back, affronted.

“Hey! That’s not nice, I’m not crazy. And _I’m_ the real Quentin Beck, go ahead, ask me anything.” He waited. Both Fury and Spider-Man hesitated. Eventually, Spider-Man broke, leaning forward a bit to look Fury in the eye.

“I know something only the real one would know, but I need you and your men to leave, and turn off all the cameras.” Fury slowly turned to look at him, and Peter had never been more scared of any being in his life than he was of Fury in that one moment.

“You have two minutes, Spider-Man.” With a gesture, Fury was followed out of the room by the guards, who didn’t give them weird looks, but Beck still felt their judgment.

Once the door closed behind the last guard, Peter turned back to the two men.

“Come on, Peter, you seriously think I would do something this stupid?” The impostor nearly whined, and Beck cringed such an unflattering tone in his voice. “I’ve been trying so hard to be a better person. I wouldn’t do this.” Peter looked him in the eyes, and then turned to look at Beck.

“I don’t know anything anymore, apparently. So.” He turned to Beck first. “When was the last time we fucked?” Beck scoffed, rolling his eyes, but answered.

“Two weeks ago, at that dock on the pier. You stopped me smuggling, I cursed your name, yadda yadda yadda, I was picking splinters out of my knees for days after.” He grimaced at the memory. Peter nodded and turned towards the other man.

“And you, uh, where do I have a birthmark?” The man smiled a little at Peter before answering.

“You’ve got one behind your knee, on the right leg. I want to kiss it every time I go down on you.” Beck blushed, that was _not_ a thought he’d ever shared with anyone. Which meant it really was him. He looked at the other man appraisingly.

“So maybe you are me. How come you’re all _docile_ or something? Did they drug you?” The man shook his head no.

“No! I’m just generally a nice person, unlike you.” Beck snorted, and Peter shushed them both before they could bicker further.

“Alright, listen, both of you. Somehow you got, cloned, or duplicated or something. Whatever. I’m sure Fury already has a team on it, figuring it out. So, uh, Beck - shit. That’s annoying. Hmm. I don’t really want to call one of you _Quentin_ though, that’s weird.” Beck sniffed in disgust. Peter was right, being called Quentin by him felt weird. But he wasn’t sure what else to suggest.

“Oh!” Both Becks looked up at Peter’s exclamation. “Oh, perfect. He looked to Beck. “I’ll call you Beck.” He turned to the other one. “And you Q. Like from that really old movie series, James Bond. Because you’re nice, and smart and stuff.” Q smiled at him, looking a little hopeful and Beck wanted to retch.

“I like that, that works.” Beck huffed at the other him’s hopeful tone.

“Don’t be such a wuss, you’re making me look bad. You’re evil, remember?” He snarled again, putting some force behind it. Q frowned, and looked from him to Peter and back again.

“Do I really sound like that?” Peter shook his head, hesitant.

“Uh, not really? Normally you’re kind of in the middle, like, you can be an asshole but you’re also kind of sweet sometimes? Like how you said you wanted to kiss the birthmark behind my knee, that’s sweet.” Beck knew the kid was blushing now, the pitch of his voice gave it away. He gagged theatrically.

“Please, can we not? He’s awful, I can’t be in the same room.” He leaned over the desk, giving Peter a showy once-over and was rewarded when the boy gulped and pulled at the neckline of his suit. “How about you and I put these handcuffs to better use, huh?” Peter gulped again, tried to speak, and nothing came out. He was saved from answering when Fury pulled open the door and strode in, followed by his guards.

“You better have some answers, Spider-Man.” Peter flinched, and looked towards the man.

“Yeah, although I’m sure you won’t like them. He - they - both of them _are_ Quentin Beck. I think he got separated into two halves.” Fury closed his eye and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Tell me you didn’t just say what I think you did.” Peter shook his head carefully.

“Yeah, uh, I did. Sorry. I think they got separated along the good/evil axis, because Beck,” He pointed at Beck’s form, “Is more of a dick than usual, and Q,” He gestured to Q, “seems sweet, a-and nice. So one is the mean half, one is the nice half.” Fury’s frown only grew more pronounced as Peter talked.

“So you’re telling me I have two people running around with Quentin Beck’s brain? And no idea how this happened?” Peter didn’t answer him.

Q half-raised his hand, looking uncomfortable. “I-I might know how it happened.” Peter shot his eyes towards the man, and he nodded encouragingly. Beck wanted to spit, it was so nauseating. Puppy love was _not_ a good look on him. “I- we, a couple days ago I bought stuff off The Vulture, old alien tech stuff.” He looked at his hands as he talked, and Peter shot an accusing glare at Beck, since Q wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Beck glared right back. “I was going to, well, I didn’t want to make weapons exactly, just figure out how the energy source worked since it seemed to run nearly infinitely and it was pretty interesting.”

Beck couldn’t listen to another second of his own voice making that pitiful sound, and he interrupted, talking quickly to get to the end of the story. “And I didn’t use proper procedures, since it’s not like I have a full lab with quarantine areas. I picked up one of the pieces with my bare hands and got knocked out for a while after a big flash of light. That was probably when I split in half.” He shot a glare at his counterpart for good measure, hoping to put the story to bed.

Fury leaned forward, putting his hands on the table between the two men. “And what happened after that?” Beck frowned, and thought about it.

“When I got up, I felt okay so I figured it was just a knockout blast or something. After that I got back to work, making my ray gun to hold central park hostage.” Fury then turned to Q.

Q cleared his throat and looked a little nervous. “I - yes, that’s what happened with the alien tech, I touched it and got knocked out. But I didn’t go back to work after that, I left. I took a walk to clear my head, needed some time to think about things, you know?” Peter nodded, the moron. “So I was minding my business and eventually your guys came up to me and said I had a warrant out. I didn’t want to fight, so I ended up going with them.” Fury nodded at that.

“So that’s where you two split. Where did the alien technology end up?” Beck shrugged.

“I used it in the gun _he_ destroyed.” He pointed an accusing finger at Peter, and Peter threw his hands up in annoyance.

“What? You’re the one trying to take over the freaking city! If you hadn’t-” He stopped himself, and rolled his eyes again. “You know what? Fine, it’s my fault, whatever. I’m not arguing with you on this.” He turned to Fury. “Are you planning to keep them here? They probably shouldn’t be in a super secret lab underground, you know that, right?” Fury nodded tightly.

“We haven’t decided on a plan of action yet.” Peter sheepishly raised his hand, looking at the ground. “What, Spider-Man?”

“If you wanted, I - I could probably watch them.” Beck knew immediately what direction the boys thoughts were trending, and he shot him a smirk. Peter gave a small ‘meep’ and clasped his hands tightly together in his lap. Fury actually seemed like he was considering the proposition. He looked at Peter, and then back to Beck and Q.

“And you’re going to watch them, where? And keep the two of them from overpowering you and taking off your mask?” Beck broke out into a full laugh at that, he didn’t anticipate Fury’s concerns to be about Peter, although he knew why the man felt like that. Once he finished laughing, he looked at Q who looked confused but not mirthful in the same way.

Q spoke first. “So - you know? Who he is?” Peter tried to subtly signal he stop talking, but Q either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “But do you? Know who he is, I mean.” Fury nodded gravely, his expression frozen. “But we- I’ve known who he is since-” Q’s eyes went wide, and he immediately clammed up. Peter let his head thunk onto the table, groaning. Beck knew he could be dense at times, but this was ridiculous.

Fury turned on Peter with raw anger pouring off him in waves. “You’ve been compromised by him for _how long_? And I’m just finding this out now?” Peter cringed away from him.

“It wasn’t - it’s not like that, I knew who he is, and I didn’t see the harm - it’s not like he’s a big time villain, he’s just, you know?” Fury didn’t know, it seemed, because he turned on his heel, intent on storming out of the room.

He stopped before leaving and leveled Peter with a look. “You’re taking him. Them, both of them, whatever. You deal with him. I’ll get the mess cleaned up and put people to work figuring out how to fix him, but you’re in charge of him until then. And if anyone gets hurt, you’ll be at fault.”

Peter displayed some of the fighting spirit Beck so admired when he answered Fury. “You bet sir, I promise I’ll take _really good care_ of him.” Fury stormed from the room without another word, and the guards followed suit after giving an uneasy look to the three of them. One of the guards left the key to the handcuffs both men wore on the table next to Peter.

Once they were gone, Peter wasted no time unlocking their handcuffs. He turned to place the cuffs and the key on the table and didn’t expect it when Beck pounced, pushing him flat against the table, Beck pressed into him from thigh to shoulder, and Peter let out a little whimper. Beck ground against his ass in response. 

“As soon as we’re out of here, I’m fucking you six ways from Sunday and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” Peter whimpered again, trying to lean back to kiss him, but Beck pulled away. As soon as he let go, Q grabbed hold and steadied Peter, hands checking him over carefully.

“Are you okay? That was rough.” He took Peter’s hands in his own, inspecting them carefully, and then kissed each knuckle before cupping Peter’s face and kissing him soundly. Beck wanted to be disgusted at the caring display, but in truth he found the image of himself kissing Peter more than a little hot. Before the two got lost in each other, Q broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Peter’s. “We should go, before they come back or realize it might not be a good idea to leave us alone with you.” Beck growled his agreement and grabbed a wrist from each of them, tugging until they followed his lead.

“Come on, let’s get a move on. If we don’t get to a bed soon, I’m fucking you wherever we end up, Fury be damned.” Peter let out a squeak of fear and Q looked disapproving, but Beck knew his own face. He saw the desire mirrored in his own eyes, overlaid with layers of soft sweetness. The thoughts he had about tying Peter up and taking care of him so he could never get hurt. Well, he supposed his other half got all of that, so he was left with the brutal rough, brutal fucking. Beck was okay with that.

Peter didn’t remember most of how he got back to his apartment, it was just a whirlwind of bright colors and not-so-sneaky kisses. They endured some questioning eyes on their way, but finally they poured through his front door. Beck ripped at Peter’s clothes, trying to get them off and failing as he kept getting distracted by biting and sucking on every patch of skin he exposed. Q, on the other hand, hovered nervously, looking concerned at Beck’s rough treatment of Peter.

Once Beck sucked a dark mark onto Peter’s neck, too high to hide, he couldn’t stand it anymore. “Alright, you, you’re done for the moment.” Q’s hands pulled Beck off Peter, and Peter whined, unhappy with the situation. “It’s okay, Peter, just give me a sec.” Peter watched Q dump his other half onto the couch, and keep him there with an impressive glare. He then took Peter’s hands again, looking into his eyes before inspecting the mark on his neck.

“Oh, hon, that’s pretty dark. Does it hurt?” His fingers gently probed at the edges of the mark, already darkening, and Peter shook his head, blushing. He shivered when Q brushed fingers over the mark again, and closed his eyes.

“No - it, it feels good. I don’t mind marks.” Q’s eyes closed momentarily, and he clasped Peter’s hands in his.

“God, honey, you can’t say things like that to me, you’re so good. You’re so perfect for me.” He captured Peter’s lips in another kiss, deeper this time, and more insistent. Peter let him take over the kiss and he did, pressing into Peter’s mouth with his tongue and working his hands gently but sturdily into Peter’s hair. Peter was panting by the time they broke apart, and Q looked a little glassy eyed himself. Beck gave up waiting for them to finish their _moment,_ and got off the couch to stand beside both men.

“Well, come on then, let’s go.” He herded them into the bedroom, and both Peter and Q let themselves be led easily.

When Beck pushed Peter so he fell on the bed facedown, Q turned to him with a scowl.

“You don’t _have_ to be so rough, he’s only a kid. Why not show a little kindness?” Beck rolled his eyes and scoffed at the other man.

“Only a kid? He’s a superhero, with _super powers_. He could flatten us both with one pinky finger.” He leaned in close to his other self. “And you know why he doesn’t?” Q shook his head. “Because he likes it rough. He wants to be ridden hard and put away wet, taking my dick as many ways as he can get it.” Beck pulled back to see Peter on the bed, watching the interaction. He turned back towards himself. “And you might claim you’re a goodie two shoes, but I know myself, and I know you’re just as turned on by the idea of bruising him as I am.” Q didn’t argue. Beck intended to prove a point, really, more than anything else, and when he leaned forward to kiss Q, he intended it to be chaste.

It was _not_ a chaste kiss. It was a drag out fight, and Q was all too happy to surrender after battling for a minute. He let Beck push him down onto the bed next to Peter, who sat slack jawed, looking at them both. Beck shot Peter a grin that was slightly too toothy, and bent down to kiss himself once more. After he fully liquified his nicer self’s brains, he turned back to Peter, who could have been wearing a sandwich board reading “Me next!” for how ready he was.

Beck kissed him, and while Peter was distracted Beck grabbed his wrists, pinning them above his head on the bed. Peter moaned and struggled a little, but Beck held him with ease.

Q was finally back online, and he elbowed Beck out of the way to take Peter’s face in his hands again, kissing him deeply and with no urgency. Beck rolled his eyes at the display, but Peter moaned into the kiss and leaned forward for more. Beck set about finding the lube (Peter was a young adult, if nothing else, he had some somewhere). Once he had hold of the slippery bottle, he rejoined them on the bed.

Beck manhandled Peter out of the spider-suit, and Peter rid both Q and Beck of their shirts at the same time. Beck leaned back, taking a look at all the flesh on display, while Q took a closer look, kissing down Peter’s torso in a distracted line. Beck watched him with a little contempt, but more agreement than he’d thought possible. As he saw Q skip Peter’s dick, choosing instead to bite at his hipbone and making Peter mewl, Beck got an idea.

Beck leaned forward and positioned his mouth near Peter’s ear, so the boy could hear everything he said.

“Now Peter, you’re going to listen, okay?” Peter nodded vigorously. “So here’s what’s going to happen. Q here is going to get you nice and loose, working your cute little asshole with his tongue until you’re begging for one of us to fuck you.” Peter whined, but Beck didn’t kiss him, holding his body out of reach. “And while he’s doing that, I’ll be fucking your cute little mouth, stopping your whining and teaching you how to properly treat a man.”

Peter’s breath did all sorts of funny hitching sounds and catches, but Beck didn’t let up on the filth he spouted to the boy. “And he’s going to be oh so loving and gentle with you, he’s going to prep you all kindly and fuck you lovingly and make sure it doesn’t hurt at all, and you know what Peter?” Peter shook his head. “He is, he’ll fuck you so gently that you’re begging for more, and when I think you’re good and fucked out, I’m going to fuck your poor abused ass as well, not letting him finish before pushing inside you as well. God, you’ll be so stretched out on the both of us, it’ll be obscene.” Peter cried out, throwing an arm up to catch hold of Beck’s thigh and clutching at him like a lifeline. He nodded, though, and when Beck leaned down to capture his mouth once more, he was half kissing, half needy whimpers.

Beck looked down his body and saw Q doing exactly what he promised. _Great minds think alike, I guess_. Beck drew back from Peter’s kiss and repositioned himself to get a better angle - he had his own promises to fulfill.

Peter opened his mouth obediently, knowing what to expect, and Beck slid in, drawing back only to fuck deeper on the next thrust. Peter choked a little, the angle making it slightly awkward, but he swallowed and worked Beck’s dick like a pro. Once he found a good rhythm, Peter moved up and down Beck’s shaft easily, looking up at him occasionally to check his progress. Beck fisted his hands tightly in the boy’s hair, fucking forward, and gave him no room to do more than take it.

When Beck looked back, he saw Q three fingers deep into Peter, who moaned like a cheap whore around the dick in his mouth. When Q withdrew and added a fourth, Beck wanted to roll his eyes but refrained, not wanting to actually injure the boy. He let his other half scissor the boy until Beck was nearly ready to come from Peter’s mouth alone, at which point he pulled out. Peter, covered in spit and precome and tears looked up at him, dazed, and Beck used the hand still in his hair to move Peter’s head out of the way, swinging his leg to kneel beside Peter.

Peter looked ready to explode from the contrast between the gentle fingering and the rough facefucking, and Beck positioned Q to finally push inside Peter, their moans echoing as he bottomed out with ease. As Q started a slow, steady rhythm, Beck moved his hands over Peter’s body, pinching and biting at him wherever he could. He left marks if possible, little pinpricks of pain that had Peter arching and stuttering the motion of his hips.

When Q sped up a little Beck took that as his cue. He moved behind Peter’s head and half lifted, half pushed the boy so he sat on Q’s dick, Q still thrusting shallowly into him. Peter moaned low in his throat at the new angle and Beck let him just move for a minute, his thighs flexing as he twitched on Q’s dick.

Before too long, however, Beck was restless, and he pushed Peter even more onto Q, reaching one hand to the joining of their bodies. He slipped one finger in with ease and Peter, voice nearly hoarse, moaned again, trying to nod as he moved. “Fuck - please - gotta have you,” Beck, satisfied he wouldn’t unduly hurt the boy (and thus ruin any chances of getting to do this again), lined up without any additional prep except copious amounts of lube and thrust in, the counterpoint to Q’s thrusts.

Peter actually screamed at that, hands gripping for purchase on skin or sheets, anything to ground him to the moment. He moved enthusiastically, hips gyrating when he couldn’t get enough space to move up and down from the hands pulling his hips down.

Beck couldn’t breathe, Peter was so tight and so full of dick, his dick, and he _loved it_. Q was a mess as well, panting and rutting, and Beck knew none of them would last much longer. He moved in sync with his other half, and Peter panted and moaned between them. Beck saw tears on Peter’s face but he was still begging whenever he got the breath to do so, so Beck didn’t worry too much.

After another minute or two, Q came, emptying himself inside Peter, and Peter yelled out, coming hard and clenching tightly around the two dicks inside him. Beck felt the ripples of Peter’s orgasm crash over him and he gripped Peter’s hips, pulling him down hard and whining into his neck as he came.

Once they were all finished, Beck retained the peace of mind to pull out, and Q did the same. Peter flopped bonelessly over once they made space for him and lay there already half asleep as Q and Beck argued with their eyes about who got to be the big spoon. Beck won the argument, of course, and Q curled around Peter’s chest, holding his face and nuzzling close.

They all fell asleep, and the next morning when Fury called to let them know his scientists had a cure for Beck’s parallel lives, Peter pretended he’d missed the call until the afternoon. He had some experiments of his own to run first.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm a huge ho for comments! Please let me know what you think, and what you'd want to see more of!
> 
> If you like my writing, please consider buying me a coffee to let me know! :) https://ko-fi.com/sweetesthoney


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